by Jennifer Ann
That damn tattoo on her ribs gets my cock’s attention as she holds her hands over her head before diving into the deep end. “Today’s struggles develop strength for tomorrow.” Damn it, I want to ruin every last person who made her life difficult.
I continue to watch her a little longer, impressed by her form when she swims the length of the pool in a Sidestroke. Like every other kid raised on the South Side, she most likely spent her summers at the Pelican Pit as one of the only free forms of entertainment available. More importantly, it was an escape from our shitty childhoods. Everyone left their worries on the shore, splashing and laughing like we were living other kids’ carefree lives.
After a few laps, she hangs off the side of the pool with her back to me, wiping her hands over her face while catching her breath. Deciding I’ve participated in enough voyeurism for the night, I activate the outdoor sound system, and grab a beach towel from the closet.
With a natural smile, doe eyes sparkling, lashes sprinkled with drops of water, wet blonde hair sleek against her head, Zoe watches intently as I near. The water washed most of her makeup away, revealing a cluster of freckles around her nose the way I’d remembered. She looks younger—innocent. Like someone’s kid sister. Like the kind of carefree girl you’d see in a commercial for the State of California with a surfboard tucked under her arm. She’s fucking exquisite.
“There you are,” she purrs, swimming over to where I stand. “Are you gonna join me? It’s a perfect night for a swim.”
Holding her stare, I grab the back of my shirt and yank it over my head. When I tug my shorts down, her eyes fall to my stiff dick bobbing against my boxer briefs. She pulls her bottom lip in between her teeth, eyes all at once too big for her face. There’s a moment where our gazes catch, and something extreme passes through the warm night air.
Anticipation.
It becomes its own living entity, thumping inside my chest to the sporadic rhythm of the Reignwolf tune blasting from the speakers and seizing my cock with blinding intensity. As badly as I want to sink into her, I also don’t want it to be over in an instant. The way she’s looking at me, like I’m the only man in the world for her, I’d be lucky to last a whole minute.
I break the spell by plunging into the warm water, cannonball-style. She giggles in a high pitch as I swim toward the shallow end, hooking her around the waist and pulling her close. Her smile becomes timid when we crouch down, faces a mere inch apart as our chins skim the water.
“Hey there…rockstar,” she whispers.
“Hey, gorgeous,” I return with a slow grin. “What’d you think of the show?”
“You guys were amazing. Especially you.” Lacing her arms around my neck, her lidded gaze travels down to my lips. “Oh my god, your voice. I’m telling you, Ryker, if you were on the radio, you’d be buried with lawsuits by women whose ovaries exploded.”
Dropping my grin, I knit my eyebrows together. “Ovaries can explode? What the hell does that mean?”
“It’s an expression.” She giggles quietly for a second. Then her eyes return to mine, and she acts like she forgot how to breathe. “It means you’re sexy A-F.”
Guessing that’s something she’s been called before too. I reach out to drag my thumb over her perfect mouth, begging to be kissed. “God…you’re fuckin’ unreal.”
Her tongue lazily licks along the pad of my thumb, eyes shining with invitation. Pleasure builds inside of me, turning my dick into a metal rod. When I dip my thumb past her lips, her eyelids flutter shut, black lashes brushing against her cheeks. She swirls her tongue around it the way she had my dick, wrangling a dark moan from deep down.
“What’s going on here?” she pants, grabbing my wrist when I release my thumb. Big brown eyes search mine, demanding answers. “How do you always manage to turn me on this much with a simple look?”
I pull her down to my crooked knee until her slit’s perched over my raging erection. A tiny strip of cloth is the only thing preventing me from sliding my fingers in between her submerged thighs and finding her warm slit. Eyes growing wider, her sweet little lips part.
“Feel that?” I grunt. “Same thing happens every time you look at me. It hasn’t gone away since you sucked me off. Can’t ever remember it aching this hard.”
Grabbing onto her face, I plunge my tongue deep inside her mouth. She mirrors me, hands on my jaw while kissing me back with the same enthusiasm she used when giving me head. The way she sucks and licks while grinding her pussy against my cock sends my eyes rolling back into my head.
I’m a goner for this woman, a slave to her beautiful body and captivating eyes, owned by the slide of her mouth and tongue. The need to be connected with her grows until it’s bigger than the need to come up for air.
Taking the conversation we had outside the bar into consideration, I let her take the lead. I’m not about to force her into anything, and I want her to feel in control. We kiss forever and a day until my tongue aches and my lips have lost any remaining elasticity.
I want to fucking howl with joy when she unhooks her bra, depositing it an arm’s length away to float in the water. Dark grunts fall from my lips as I palm her beautiful breasts bobbing in the clear water, pink nipples swollen and hard as rocks. I’ve waited all day for the chance to take them in my mouth. I bend to do just that, scraping my teeth over each of the sensitive buds before sucking one in and giving it a thorough lashing with my tongue while caressing the other with my hand.
Zoe whimpers above me, cradling my head in her arms. “Jesus…Ryker…you’re gonna make me come. I haven’t let anyone put their mouth there in ages…oh god…that feels so damn good.”
I don’t dwell on why she would have that kind of a rule, or what other spineless pricks have touched her this way in the past. Planning on giving her a handful of orgasms before the night’s over, I continue to give her breasts well-deserved attention while nudging her thighs apart to swipe a finger inside her slick opening. She mewls and pumps her hips to the same rhythm of my hand, releasing cries that nearly match the staccato of the song drifting through the night air.
Her breaths accelerate with tiny, muttered pants. “Ryker…what are you…doing…to me?”
I’ll never tire of my name coming from those succulent lips. I don’t let up, swirling my thumb along her clit in the water while clamping my teeth around one of her wet nipples. Her fingers yank on my hair at the same time her body begins to buckle.
I break away to watch her face slacken with pleasure. “Say my name when you come.”
After a few more seconds, she breaks hard and fast, crying out my name repeatedly. With the sharp arch of her back, tits shoved into my face, and wild flutter of her lashes, she’s a vision of unmatched beauty. My dick vibrates with a need to join in, but I hold back, grazing my lips along her jaw and wet body until she comes back around.
She nudges me back, eyes lit with fire as her lips tremble in a sad attempt to smile. I’m starting to prefer the natural, laid-back woman still suspended in my arms over the made up version I found in the club who was intent on pleasing customers. “Thank you. That was…wow.”
“You’re thanking me for getting you off?” When she shrugs, I pull her wet hair over her shoulder, holding back a belly-laugh. “You must’ve missed the memo, gorgeous. ‘Minnesota Nice’ doesn’t apply to South Siders.”
“It’s been a long time.” She tips her head down, cheeks flushing. “I’m sure you wouldn’t understand.”
I capture her chin between my fingers. “Don’t assume anything about me.”
“Are you saying the rumors I’ve heard about the legendary Ryker Blackwood and hordes of women aren’t true?” Though her tone is teasing, it’s obvious she’s fishing.
“Thought you knew clichés are bullshit.” Shaking my head, I release her chin and nuzzle her neck, letting my fingers explore the curve of her tight ass. “Having money and living in a place like this doesn’t mean I wander around in a red robe and share my bed with multiple women
anymore than stripping makes you easy.”
Cheeks flushing darker, she wraps her arms around my neck. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean—”
“We’re getting this outta the way now.” I pause to give her a hard stare. “My old man was a criminal like my uncle, and he was also filthy rich. He set aside a trust fund that was released on my eighteenth birthday. I started the shop without a loan, knowing it’d be the perfect front for boosting cars.” I feather my lips over hers, wishing she was in my bed already. “I bring in enough cash to live the high life and help you and your sister out—for as long as you’re with me. I plan to take care of you and your sweet body, and you’re not going to fight it.”
“Whoa…whoa! Step back a minute.” She springs away from me, holding a hand between us like I’m a cobra coiled to strike. “Let me get this straight. You want to set me up like I’m your mistress?”
“No. Like you’re my girl.”
Her forehead creases a frown. “You can’t do that.”
“Why not? I have more money than I know what to do with, and that’s after I throw a good chunk of it at a dozen local charities.”
“Then stop stealing cars, and live off the income from RB Auto. Problem solved.” The wrinkles on her forehead deepen. “I can’t stand the thought of you going to prison anyway.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Missing her warmth, I pull her back into my arms and dust my lips along her collarbone. “Thought you weren’t going to fight this.”
“I meant my feelings for you. Not this crazy arrangement you’re proposing. You can’t just make me a real housewife of the South Side overnight.” Beneath my lips on her skin she becomes boneless, leaning into my touch and sighing. “This is all happening way too fast.”
Drawing back, I search her beautiful whiskey-colored eyes. “If money was no object, what would you spend the rest of your life doing?”
“What does that have to do with—”
“Just answer the question.”
“Other than becoming your number one groupie once you’re famous, and following you all over the world?” Giggling, she glances away for a moment, bottom lip caught between her teeth. “Hmmm…I’ve been focused on keeping my sister alive for so long that I haven’t really thought about that kind of thing. I don’t know. Learn how to bake and decorate pastries? When I was a girl, I was fascinated by fancy cupcakes. Every day after school, I’d check the window display at the old bakery down on Main Street to see what they made that day. I once stole a five from Freddie just so I could try one. It was decorated like a watermelon, and had a creamy filling that melted on my tongue. I’d never tasted anything so delicious in my life. But who knows, it’s possible I’d suck at baking. I haven’t really tried. Maybe I’d teach Zumba or dance. I don’t have any formal training, but I live for any opportunity to move to good music. That’s one of the reasons I applied for a job at Pinky’s.” She glances sheepishly up at me through her wet eyelashes. “I think it’s why I’m so drawn to you. Music oozes from your pores.”
A growl rips from my throat. There’s no question she’s a talented dancer. “Let me give you the chance to do those things. I’m not asking you to move in—at least not yet. I’m only asking that you let me use my money to make you happy.”
She blinks several times, appearing conflicted. “But why me?”
“I’m a man who knows what I want,” I say, my lips grazing hers with each word. “And I want the incredibly gorgeous woman standing in my pool.”
I claim her mouth again, grunting and putting it to a stop the minute she excitedly grinds against my hard-on. I don’t want her comparing me to the cocky prick she knew in high school. Plus water sex blows. I want to feel her lubrication on my dick the next time I make her come.
Without breaking her intense gaze, I sweep her into my arms and start for the stairs leading out of the pool. Despite her being half my size, I can feel the lean weight of her muscles. Certain I’d get off watching her work out, I release a deep grunt.
“What?” Her lips curl with a timid smile. “Where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere I’ll have full access to your body without anything getting in my way.”
By the level of excitement reflected in her doe eyes, she understands that I have no intentions of holding back.
8
Zoe
When Ryker leaves me alone in his master bathroom, telling me he’s going to clean up down the hallway, I assume it’s because he wants to avoid awkward shower sex. The luxurious 6-nozzle jets turn out to be a real treat, soothing my tense muscles. But it doesn’t do a damn thing to calm my nerves, or ease the tingling sensations rippling through every crevice of my body.
I can’t believe I’m about to have sex with Ryker fucking Blackwood. I don’t want to guess how many women he’s been with, but it somehow feels like a really big deal—one of epic proportions. Like the skies will open up any minute as rays of sunshine blast down on me and birds circle my head. Jesus…I’m becoming delirious. It hasn’t been that long since I slept with someone—probably months—but you’d think I was sex deprived.
Who am I kidding? I’m about to sleep with a living legend. I have every right to be dizzy with delight.
Once I’ve toweled off, I wait for him to join me on his king-sized bed, bouncing with energy and unease. I know he lives alone, but it doesn’t mean we won’t be interrupted again by Rook or one of his other bandmates. I’d be mortified for life if Cameron Stone walked in on me sprawled out naked, so wet and achy that the temptation to pleasure myself gnaws at my fingertips.
The bedroom has an overall ominous vibe that I can’t shake. The only source of light comes from the waning moonlight outside a wall of high windows. It’s hard to distinguish the color of the 12-foot walls, though I’m betting on dark gray, or even black. Aside from the bed, a wide vanity, and a buttload of shadows, the rest of the massive room appears to be unoccupied. The dark, musky scent of the beautiful man down the hallway rolls off his sinfully soft sheets and down comforter in waves, intensifying an urge to burrow in, and spend the entire weekend in his bed.
There’s no way I can allow Ryker to take care of me the way he offered. For starters, I don’t want to become the old-school version of a kept woman. There’d always be an unspoken need to repay him, regardless of the amount. And I’d feel an obligation to gratify him all hours of the day. Although that wouldn’t be the worst thing imaginable, I’d rather not toe the line of prostitution. It’s the only profession I’ve given a hard pass, no matter how much cash was involved.
Plus we hardly know each other. What if we aren’t sexually compatible? I won’t deny he gave me The Orgasm that no other man could match in a lifetime, whether or not they diligently tried. And I’ve been there, done that, saw the movie, left a shitty review. I couldn’t possibly tally up how many times I’ve been rubbed raw as guys with lesser experience attempted to find the right spot while dry-humping my leg. But I was stressed enough when stretching my lips around his gorgeous cock. What if we don’t…fit?
It’s tempting to fill Raven in and ask her advice, but my phone’s somewhere downstairs, still tucked in my purse. The last time I heard from her, she was getting ready to meet up with her geriatric fuck-buddy anyway. And I doubt she’d understand. It’s her only goal in life to find a man who’ll take care of her every financial need. She’d think I was nuts for turning Ryker down.
I don’t know what exactly I would want out of a relationship, except that I’m certain of one thing: I won’t accept handouts. That’s the Freddie and Gloria way. I refuse to become a bottom feeder like my parents.
When Ryker’s shadowed mass breaches the doorway, I want to ask if this has always been his room, or if he took over the master bedroom when his uncle left. The question dies on my lips when I catch his thick cock swinging between his legs, strong and proud. He tosses a foil square onto the mattress. I’m suddenly unable to swallow.
I’m about to get drilled by this beautiful man.
I already know I’ll never be the same.
He pushes a couple of buttons on the wall, triggering a quiet melody to play from another set of hidden speakers. A sexy rock ballad rolls through the air above me as a woman begins to sing about desire in a low, scratchy voice. I don’t recognize the tune, but I’m starting to understand Ryker takes his music rather seriously. It’s yet another trait that makes him so damn intimidating.
He climbs onto the bed, prowling toward me on his hands and knees, sinewy muscles in his shoulders flexing and bending in sync with the soft melody filling the room. Made useless by the power behind the blue eyes intent on destroying me, I lean back on my arms and hold my breath. He stops to brace himself above me, a wall of ferocity and warmth. I shiver when his cock touches my thigh, leaving a tiny dab of arousal on my burning flesh.
“Tell me you want this, gorgeous.”
“I want you,” I clarify, cupping my hand behind his neck while searching his somber expression. I arch into him, hissing when the tip of his hard warmth slips through my quivering thighs. “So fucking much…it feels like I’ll die if I don’t have you.”
With that, we fall into a tangle of heated kisses and warm bodies, bruising teeth and lashing tongues. Not a single inch of our skin goes unexplored by our greedy hands and hungry mouths. I lose myself in a dark trance, driven by the blinding need to taste him once more, and experience his beautiful cock inside me. I couldn’t say which I want more. I only know I want every part of him connecting with every part of me.
Hot emotions weld inside my chest with every soft caress of his fingers, every tender lick of his tongue. Although we vaguely knew of each other as teenagers, I don’t believe in the kind of love at first sight that happens in a matter of hours. I believe it takes more than a strong attraction to form a long-lasting connection that can’t be broken.
